


Cold Weather

by andthewhales



Category: The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, and they're all happpy, family love, in which everyone still lives at the prison, short fic, ugly christmas clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthewhales/pseuds/andthewhales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cold weather requires warm clothes. Unfortunately, not all winter gear is attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Weather

It was a bitterly cold, rainy day in the tail end of fall. The kind of day where the chill sets in like it plans to stay, sinking bone marrow deep. All around the prison everyone shuddered and shivered and hunkered down into their piles of blankets and extra clothing, knowing that it would only get colder. They’d managed to set up a generator and a messy system of space heaters in two of the cells, but the group had agreed to hold out using it until they had no other choice.

For now, they’d all swapped out their breezy summer clothes for thick sweaters and heavy boots and the god-awful ugly scarves and mittens Carol and Glenn had salvaged from someone’s garage. Everyone had some sort of tacky Santa in their wardrobe somewhere, and it has become just another part of their own little family culture to tease one another over it. Daryl had held out as long as possible, but that morning even he had succumbed to the need for warmth, and had snatched a particularly hideous green and red elf hat of the pile of winter gear.

Rick had been the first to notice, laughing out loud as Daryl descended the stairs and took a seat beside him.

“Looks good,” he complemented with a grin tugging on one of the embroidered dancing elves on the side of the hat, “We outta get you a whole matching outfit.” “Like hell,” Daryl groused back, smacking his hand away. He stared pointedly at the gold and green atrocity Rick had on his own head. “Ain’t like yours is much better.”

He leaned across the table to pull Little Asskicker out of Beth’s lap and into his own, ignoring the laughter of the group. Judith fussed in his lap while he chowed down, demanding food and he indulgingly gave her every other spoonful of his mushy oatmeal. Rick and the others were still grinning at him when he glanced up, all of them having become immune to his grouchy demeanor after years of living together.

“You’re gonna need something more than that vest, too, sooner or later. I think Carol’s got a red and silver Santa sweater that’ll fit you nicely.”

“Mmm, I’d give a candy bar to see that,” Michonne quipped from behind her bowl. Out of all of them, she had been the luckiest, managing to scrap together only complementary shades of green in her winter wardrobe. “Too bad you’d be dead before you got it on him.”

“Damn right.”

“I dunno,” Rick insisted, a daring sort of amusement in his eyes, “I think I’d accept that challenge.”

“Oooh,” came the intrigued cooing from the Greene sisters seated at the other table. Maggie raised a flirtatious eyebrow in Daryl’s direction and asked, “Can we watch?”

“The hell, woman?!”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got much else to entertain us. What, you worried Rick could take you?”

Daryl flipped her off and quickly downed the rest of his food. He kissed Judith on the forehead just beneath the admittedly adorable blue and purple snowflaked bonnet, then passed her back to Beth, glaring when the blonde smiled all too sweetly at him. Beside him, Rick stood as well and together they moved to clean out their bowls at the wash bins.

“Y’all are a bunch of perverts,” he called back over his shoulder, and was rewarded with more giggles and comments about how nice he would look in red. Rick leaned against him, shoulder to hip, as they rinsed off their tableware and stacked them off to the side. They were bid farewell as they left to relieve Sasha and Tyreese of their overnight watch duty in the guard tower.

“It ain’t really their fault,” Rick commented as they were leaving the building, stepping in unison out into the icy morning air. “They can’t help it if they have good taste.”

“The hell does that mean?”  
A tug on his sleeve stopped him short and he turned, not expecting the soft and sudden touch of lips against his own, or the bristly tickle of beard meeting goatee. The warmth of it bled into him, flooding his system and inspiring shivers and shudders of a whole other kind.

“Means you’re damn cute,” Rick laughed, breath hot on his cheek. “They’re just appreciating it, that’s all.”

Daryl hoped the scowl on his face was enough to outweigh the bright red blush creeping down his neck, but with the way Rick was looking at him, he really doubted it.

**Author's Note:**

> It's getting friggin' cold and I needed to write something cute. Happy Prison Family in ugly Christmas sweaters and hats is yes.


End file.
